


I Seem to Think I Don't Belong Here

by keelover



Category: Avengers (Comic), Captain America (Comics), Iron Man (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dog Tags, Escort Service, Fireworks, Fourth of July, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve returns home after four years of service. Things are different, the people he knew are different. And there's an odd man who hangs around, a well known escort. The fourth of July just might be the worst holiday, or the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Seem to Think I Don't Belong Here

Steve hadn't been home long. No, it had only been two months and some days, and no one understood why he couldn't go back to just being himself. The answer to that was very simple to Steve: War changed everything and everyone it touched. Steve knew he would never be the same person he was before he was deployed, and that was frustrating.  
  
Steve would never be able to sleep well throughout the night. What he did, what he had been ordered to do, would always linger in the back of his mind. No one needed to know that, though, and Steve wouldn't bother them with that information. The thing that hurt the most, really anguished him, was the friends, the family, he had lost. The men and women he had served with that didn't make it home.  
  
Steve; however, had made it home, but it was a very different place. The people he had grown up with were all in very different stations in life, having moved on without him. The first time Steve had met Sharron's two boys he was beside himself, not because she was married or had children, but because he never thought Sharron would ever settle down. Steve knew that nothing would ever be shared between them, that had been a very painful thing to explain to Sharron, but she understood. Steve was happy for her, really.  
  
Steve's mother, Sarah, was hardly in good spirits nowadays. Sarah's heart was bad, and she was often quite ill. Steve felt bad about that, but didn't know what to do or how to handle the situation. Steve didn't know if there was anything he _could_ do, and he felt like it was somehow his fault, no matter how irrational he knew that to be. Whatever the case, Steve hated being away from her for long.  
  
Then there was Clint, an old army buddy who had shipped back home seven months before Steve had. Clint wasn't like Steve, at least, not on the outside. Clint came home, reconnected, and opened his own shop. Clint was the reason Steve was here, watching a hypnotic firework display for the fourth of July. Steve hated the noise, it made him want to crawl out of his skin.  
  
Clint had a easy going smile. He could still feel hopeful about his life. Clint had given Steve a job, and had stayed up plenty of nights with Steve as he relived some of his worst experiences. Bucky was Steve's most horrid memory, and the center of all his nightmares. Clint never slept.  
  
Clint had begged him, had literally pleaded with Steve to go to the fourth of July celebration. That was the last thing Steve had wanted to do, but he had agreed because, as odd as it might sound, he felt bad for Clint. Steve was messed up, knew that he was fractured, but Clint didn't. Clint thought he could just move on, believed if he pushed hard enough, he could be who he was before, and so Steve had agreed. Steve had agreed, and had nearly regretted it.  
  
Clint had this bad habit of getting distracted, or what Steve liked to call hyper-focused. And right before the big display was set to go off, Clint was hyper-focused on a pretty blonde in leather boots. Clint left Steve to fend for himself, and he took a good look around at his surroundings. There were a lot of people, more than what Steve was prepared for, and that panicked him. Steve was on edge, afraid and ready to bolt, when a dark figure moved in beside him.  
  
When the first spark of light cascaded into a white star high above his head in the sky, all Steve could see was a man causally eating overpriced popcorn next to him, and he wasn't just any man. No, Steve knew who he was and what he did. Tony Stark was a high end escort with very expensive taste. Tony lived in Manhattan, supposedly, but he operated in Brooklyn; it was a pretty well known thing around the neighborhood. Tony was an odd man who could fix his own toys, but brought them to the shop instead.  
  
Tony was selective, too, just because you had the money didn't mean you could have him. He was funny that way. Steve was quite stirred by his presences, but he couldn't say why, exactly. Tony took his eyes off of the spectacle, grinning at Steve; it wasn't lewd or anything, just pleasant. Steve almost found that hard to believe; Tony almost never seemed happy about anything.  
  
In fact, he almost always appeared unimpressed.  
  
“Hey,” Steve greeted, at a loss for words.  
  
Tony's grin morphed into a genuine smile, and that was truly frightening. “Hey, yourself.” Tony's eyebrows knitted together, and he had a look of concentration about him. “Are those your dog tags?” he questioned, and Steve looked down though he knew better.  
  
“Yes, they are.” Tony smiled again, and Steve just didn't know why. “I thought you were a soldier, you just have that look about you,” he said, waving his hand around.  
  
“Look?”  
  
“Clean cut, all American. This must be your favorite holiday,” he joked, and Steve couldn't tell if he was mocking him or not, so he kept it honest.  
  
“I much prefer Christmas, and as far as the fourth of July goes, I haven't seen fireworks in over four years,” Steve admitted, and Tony's smile fell into a crooked grimace. Steve regretted what he said instantly.  
  
“How long have you been back, exactly?”  
  
“Two months, nine days.”  
  
Tony looked at him with an expression Steve couldn't quite read before tapping on his dog tags for some reason, and it made Steve laugh nervously. Why, he didn't know. Tony was an odd guy, but not completely unlikeable. Well, Steve liked him. Sort of.  
  
“You here with your girlfriend?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Boyfriend?”  
  
“No. I'm about as lonely as a guy can be,” he said, the dimming fireworks carrying his voice clearly through the damp air.  
  
Tony shook his head, as though he were having a completely different conversation within his head, pulling on the cuffs of his button up shirt, and that was unusual. Who wore long sleeves in July? Tony mentioned he had somewhere to go, all of the sudden, and left. Steve, whether he liked it or not, was left craving the other mans presence. Steve amended a long time ago he wouldn't lie to himself, and that included his attraction to men.  
  
Steve suddenly felt dismayed by the celebration that was in full swing. There were roller coasters and bright lights, crying children and mosquitoes, and Steve was just tired of civilians, and fellow service men alike, saluting him. He would not; however, remove his tags. Steve would never disgrace the men and women he served with in such a manner, and he would not belittle the sacrifices he had made for a country he believed in. Steve just really felt lost.  
  
“Steve, man, there you are!” Clint's voice cut through the air. He sounded relieved to have found Steve in such a large crowd. “I'm sorry,” he said, winded.  
  
“For what, Clint?” Steve questioned, smile to his boyish features.  
  
“Leaving you back there.”  
  
“I'm not worried about it, she was pretty. Besides, I'm capable of handling myself, you know?”  
  
“I know, you brick, but still, it wasn't cool of me.”  
  
“You got her number, didn't you?”  
  
“Yeah, I got her number,” Clint laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.  
  
“Get lost. Go find her,” Steve pressed, and he really felt like Clint deserved it.  
  
“Nah, we were suppose to hang out, remember? Take a trip down memory lane. Play pool and eat free hot dogs 'til the indigestion kicked in.”  
  
“Don't sweat it, go find her. I'm gonna go for a walk. I think I've done enough saluting for one day.”  
  
Clint smirked. “You know Fury would beg to differ, right?”  
  
“Well, the Colonel isn't here, and my arms are tired. Go get her.”  
  
Clint mocked saluted, falling into laughter along side Steve. He clasped him on the shoulder, staring him right in the eye. “You're a good man, Rogers.”  
  
Clint took off, and Steve moved on, walking around. American flags lined the streets, left and right, and that made Steve feel incredibly happy and amazingly sad, and he wondered how that was possible. Steve carried on, hands in the pockets of his jeans. Something caught his eye, or more like _someone_ leaning against the door of their car. Tony looked lost in thought, and Steve was comfortable walking passed him when the other man called out his name.  
  
Tony didn't say anything to Steve, just tilted his head to the side, studying him. Steve felt uncomfortable under his gaze, and more than a little flustered. Tony was a good looking man, he admitted. He was a bit distracting, actually. Tony smiled, again.  
  
“You have a nice smile,” Steve said, a little unsure.  
  
“Do I?” Tony questioned, leaning towards him.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“How would you like to come home with me?” he inquired quite abruptly, and Steve's face heated up real quick, hot under the collar.  
  
“I don't. I don't have any money,” he replied, and Tony laughed abruptly. It was a very loud laugh, deep and thoroughly amused. “I didn't mean to offend you,” Steve apologized. Tony grabbed him by the front of his white tee shirt, bringing him closer.  
  
“I don't want your money, soldier. I just want you. Besides,” he said, blue eyes dancing, “I don't take my work home with me.”  
  
Steve didn't know whether or not Tony had forgotten his name, or just liked calling him that. Honestly, he didn't care all too much. Tony was offering quite the distraction, and so Steve straightened his spine, and zoned in on him. Tony really seemed to like that. “Let's go, then.”  
  
“Get in,” Tony said, rounding the side of his Rolls-Royce.  
  
Steve did get in, and he wasn't sure what he was doing, but the interior was a lovely cream color with blue embroidery. The blue of the stitching was nothing compared to the blue of Tony's eyes, and maybe impulsiveness was apart of who Steve was now. The Steve before the war would never make contact so blatantly with a man, especially a man like Tony Stark; flashy and without shame. Steve tried to block out his thoughts, focusing instead on his surroundings. Tony's hand on his thigh was a excellent divertissement from his inner reflection.  
  
Tony drove fast, and Steve's heart raced at every twist and turn. A stop light proved too much for the brunette, though, and he was nearly in Steve's lap, mouth pressed hotly against his own. Steve had no choice but to kiss back, tongue swiping across Tony's bottom lip, earning him a pleasant groan in response. The light changed, and Tony only relinquished himself after a series of blaring horns. “Do this often, soldier?” he questioned, lips poised in a pleasant smirk.  
  
“No. Not at all.”

 

Tony chuckled lowly, like he was thoroughly enjoying the idea of being able to corrupt Steve, and Steve just wondered if he had always been corrupt or if this was something new. When the vehicle came to a halt, Steve was in awe over the size and stature of Tony's mansion. Steve didn't get much of a chance to marvel, though, as Tony's hand tugged him along by the crook of his elbow. Tony offered him a drink, and Steve settled on a beer before taking a seat. Tony's hand cradled the back of Steve's neck as he leaned over to set his beer down, and Steve had to fight the urge to react violently.  
  
Steve still had a lot of issues when it came to certain forms of physical contact, and while he had tried to downplay his reaction, Tony had noticed. He had quite the eye, Steve amended.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized, taking his hand away.  
  
“No, I'm sorry. Really. That was uncalled for.”  
  
“No worries,” Tony said, smiling as Steve brought him forward and down for a kiss. Large hands smoothed down the front of Tony's black dress shirt, the silk material thrilled Steve's senses.  
  
This kiss far surpassed their last, and things quickly moved towards what Steve presumed to be the master bedroom. Steve didn't know if it was the lack of oxygen or his questionable mental footing, but he really thought he might be in love with this man and his odd ways. Tony had him pinned down to the bed, resting on his knees as he worked to get Steve's shirt up and over his head. Tony undid the buttons to his dress shirt, teasing Steve with every push and pull of his fingers. Steve noticed the scar immediately, and couldn't help but to be drawn to it.  
  
Steve pressed the palm of his hand over the rigid flesh, and Tony had an intense look about his eyes as he watched him. “Accident,” he said, and Steve nodded, moving his hands down Tony's sides, settling on his ass, fingers digging into each cheek possessively. Tony leaned forward, kissing the tip of his nose. “I like you,” he whispered, “and I don't even know why.”

  
Steve let out a laugh, cheeks slightly flushed as Tony moved closer to kiss him, but pulled back at the last second; making it a torturous game. Steve finally got a hold of him, placing his hands on either side of Tony's face while he bit at the brunettes bottom lip. Tony could do some vile things with his tongue, and Steve thoroughly enjoyed that. Steve released him, and Tony placed open mouthed kisses anywhere his lips fell along Steve's flesh. Tony nipped, bit and sucked, and Steve let out a sound he had never made before.  
  
Tony trailed his mouth down Steve's chest, running his devilish tongue over each of Steve's nipples, pinching them for good measure. Steve was beyond words, and he really didn't need any as Tony's tongue dipped slightly into his navel, humming along the way. Steve's tags were nestled against his throat, but Tony appeared fascinated by them, and so Steve kept them on. Steve wasn't prepared as Tony removed his briefs, but the feel of fabric moving over the tip of his cock had him hyper aware of what his body wanted and needed. Tony smirked. “Impressive,” he amended.  
  
Steve shrugged. “I try.”  
  
Tony smiled, and it was quite something to see when he was completely naked. The olive undertones of his skin a dazzling sight. The heavy lidded gaze of his eyes, and the heat that roared between the two of them. Tony's shoulders were sleek as he moved lower, pressing his lips to the too hot skin over Steve's right hip, repeating the process to the left. Steve could only watch, breathing uneven and far too ragged.  
  
The flat of his tongue glided over Steve's tip, giving it a taste, and Steve arched painfully at the promise of further contact. Tony did it again, hands on either side of Steve's thighs, holding them apart only to inch his way closer. Tony's tongue moved to the underside of Steve's cock. Without any warning, Tony enveloped him, and Steve had to wonder what, exactly, he had gotten himself into. Steve's mind eventually settled and relinquished control, his body now at Tony's mercy.  
  
Steve wished he could say this was surprising, but in all honestly, he knew a lot more about Tony then he led on. There was something in the way he looked at people, studied them; declared them worth his time. Steve knew what he did, had caught him in the act on a couple of occasions with both male and female clients. On a hot evening in June, when Steve was coming back from the grocery store, he had seen Tony going at it with a so-called date. She wasn't ugly, by any means, but Tony seemed much more interested in keeping eye contact with him. It was one elevator ride Steve had tried vehemently to shake off, but never really could.  
  
Steve snapped out of his reprieve as Tony swallowed him down. Steve let out something caught between a surprised groan and a frightened yelp. Steve's fingers threaded through Tony's disheveled hair, yanking rather roughly as his cock slid back from within Tony's throat. Steve would never last at this pace, and he wasn't near ready to come, gripping at Tony's shoulders to hold off. Tony removed himself, jaw slack and lips swollen.  
  
Tony skimmed his teeth along Steve's left nipple, causing the other man to shiver, sit up and pull Tony into his lap. Steve stroked Tony's hair, and the length of the other mans arousal. Tony moaned into his mouth, hands reaching to grasp Steve's nape before pausing. Steve moved Tony's hands to grasp the back of his neck, groaning into his mouth as he tugged at his hair. Tony ground his hips downward, and Steve's fingers bruised the flesh underneath them. “I can't...we've got to. Hold on,” Tony said, regrettably moving away from Steve to his dresser, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.  
  
Steve's heart was in his throat, he didn't do this sort of thing. A one night stand, or whatever this was. There was no turning back; however, as Tony approached him, eyes piercing right through him. Tony climbed upon the bed skillfully, asking Steve how he wanted to do this, and the hell if Steve knew. They settled with Tony on top, riding him.  
  
Steve was in between Tony's thighs, tongue working him open. Tony's body was tight and hot, and welcomed him with a bit of coaxing. Steve was three fingers deep, and Tony was trying anything not to scream louder than he already was. Steve, satisfied with his handiwork, moved Tony higher above him as the other man clutched at his shoulders and shoved him back. Steve barely had time for his vision to adjust as Tony slid himself down onto him, taking Steve in at his own pace.  
  
Tony had his head thrown back, mouth loose as he touched himself. Steve had a firm grasp on Tony's hips, guiding him up and back down again, thrusting as best as he could in that position. Steve knew this wouldn't last long, the swell of heat surrounding him, taking him for all that he was worth proving to be too much. “God,” Tony breathed, and Steve could only pant, keeping his pace hard as his fingers dug in deeper; bruising well kept flesh.  
  
Tony was getting louder, and Steve found that odd. The times he had seen Tony doing what it was he did, the other man had never made a sound. The redhead he had entertained murmured 'Jesus' over and over again. The brunette had screamed as though she was being murdered, but Tony never made a sound. That wasn't the case now, though.  
  
Tony was screaming his name and obscenities Steve didn't approve of, but couldn't care about. “Fuck, soldier,” he called out, and Steve had enough. He rolled Tony onto his back, the other mans hands pinned above his head as he moved into Tony with much enthusiasm.  
  
Tony came, a whimper on his lips as Steve's hips rocked back and forth, moving within him as deep as Tony could take. Tony yanked on Steve's dog tags, kissing the metal before letting them go. Their eyes were connected, gaze intense and intent. Steve was pretty sure he could see his future in those eyes, and it wasn't pretty. Steve decided he was as terrified as he was intoxicated, but that didn't stop him from coming with a breathless sigh and final grunt.  
  
Steve didn't think he would ever catch his breath, hands tangled in Tony's hair as the two kissed slowly; lazily. Tony removed himself to get a wet cloth, helping to clean them both up; it was a tender act. Steve couldn't grasp why it was so intimate, they were practically strangers to each other, coming from two completely different walks of life. “You wanna run away with me?” Tony questioned, startling Steve.  
  
“We can just run away, find a island somewhere in the Caribbean,” Tony said, eyes peering up at him as he took Steve's hand into his own, kissing it. Steve just stared down at him. “It's obvious we're both miserable,” he contended, and Steve didn't argue that.  
  
“That's...that's crazy. I have responsibilities.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“My mother...Clint. We don't even know each other,” Steve said, hoping Tony would understand.  
  
Tony didn't say anything, just looked away, and the loss of Tony's attention nearly killed him. Steve took a shower, and the two ended up going at it once more on Tony's two thousand dollar couch. Tony drove him home, and Steve prayed his mother wouldn't be able to smell his shame when he greeted her with a kiss upon her cheek. Steve ended up playing old songs on the radio, dancing with the frail woman who use to carry him around on her hip.  
  
Four months later, and Steve's mother passed on. The heartache was unbearable, and every night he went home to an empty apartment, waiting for her to be there. Tony continued to show up at the shop, making idle conversation and inviting Steve out to dinner. Steve turned him down on more than one occasion, but the two carried on a sexual relationship that neither understood. Steve broke down one evening, wondering why all the people he loved the most were dead and gone.  
  
Tony found him, he always found Steve whether he called or not. Tony's hand smoothed down Steve's spine, and he knew Tony had just gotten back from one of his dates, but for some reason, that didn't bother him. Tony promised him the world, and Steve wanted to believe in what he said, wanted to get away from what tormented him. Steve rested his head upon Tony's shoulder, letting out a tired sigh. Tony kissed his forehead, another tender act.

 

Another reason to take Tony up on his offer.   

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this forever ago, and it's been sitting in m documents for a while. I'm happy to finally rid of it.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it, and if not, I welcome any advice you may have.


End file.
